Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Lesotho and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Bobbi Humphrey to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Eli Mardock. All the underground hits.
All Rod Modell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mary Jane Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Grass Roots record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Gang Dance,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Todd Terry,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Kerrie Biddell,
Stetsasonic,
Connie Case,
This Heat,
Chris Corsano,
Bang On A Can,
The Angels of Light,
Vladislav Delay,
The Durutti Column,
The Last Poets,
Althea and Donna,
Steve Hackett,
Accadde A,
June of 44,
The Associates,
Johnny Clarke,
Mission of Burma,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Thee Headcoats,
Ken Boothe,
Groovy Waters,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Warren Ellis,
Nick Fraelich,
The Offenders,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ronan,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Joe Smooth,
Gerry Rafferty,
Slick Rick,
Schoolly D,
The Names,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
June Days,
Little Man,
Mantronix,
La Düsseldorf,
Faust,
Sex Pistols,
PIL,
Matthew Bourne,
New Order,
cv313,
John Cale,
Bootsy Collins,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Cheater Slicks,
Fugazi,
Lebanon Hanover,
Underground Resistance,
Royal Trux,
Andrew Hill,
These Immortal Souls,
Boogie Down Productions,
Wasted Youth,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.